


curiosity killed the cat so don't wonder

by whywouldieverpushlouisoffthebed



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff fluff and more fluff, M/M, and some smut, but a lot of angst too, louis wants to save him, multiplepersonality!harry, this is pretty much going to be a little bit of everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whywouldieverpushlouisoffthebed/pseuds/whywouldieverpushlouisoffthebed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Harry is six different people wrapped in one and Louis falls in love with all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So I’m not really sure how this happened but this is the prologue for my new chaptered fic. The actual chapters should be a lot longer and I really hope you guys are interested because im super excited about this and where it’s going to go. enjoy and tell me what you think :):)

The first time Harry saw the boy it was 11:04 on a rainy Friday night. He had been nestled for over three hours in one of those big squishy chairs that suck you in and trap you, and he had no plans of leaving yet. Mainly because he literally couldn’t escape the chair. Whoever invented those things weren’t messing around because every time he even thought about getting up he was pretty sure he sunk down a little farther into it. It wasn’t like he had anywhere to be and the tiny cafe was open until at least one anyway. All those late night procrastinators that put off their research papers until the night before they were due needed somewhere to go now didn’t they. It was only a coincidence that Harry was one of those people tonight. Pure coincidence. Because he always finished his homework on time, sometimes even weeks before it was due actually. He liked being in control of his schoolwork.

He just so happened to look up from his laptop and towards the door at the exact moment a boy walked in. A boy that was practically glowing even though his hair was soaking wet and plastered across his forehead, little drops of water rolling down with gravity and being absorbed into his already drenched outfit. His light blue shirt clung to a body that Harry really shouldn’t have been looking at, black jeans dangerously tight and shoes squeaking with every step across the tile floor. Derek wouldn’t be happy if he found out Harry was staring. And that should've made him look away, it really should've, but it didn’t. His eyes trailed along behind the boy as he made his way to the counter and plopped himself down on one of the stools, like he was unaware of his current state. His mouth was moving now, Harry too far away to be able to actually hear him, but he assumed he was ordering. What else would he be doing in a cafe at this time of night? He was alone too, which was odd, because from the thirty or so seconds Harry had been in his presence it seemed like he was the type of person that would always have someone hanging around. People that can look that good soaking wet are bound to have loads of friends. Harry on the other hand looked like a drowned cat when he was wet. Hence the fact that he was by himself. Technically.

A minute or so later the girl behind the counter pushed some chocolatey looking beverage across the counter and the boy scooped it up, his legs dangling just above the floor, before he hoisted himself off the stool and onto solid ground. 

Harry was not going to stare over the top of his laptop like some kind of stalker slash lion on the hunt as the boy exited the same way he came in.

Harry really must not have had any self control.

When the little rusty bell above the door rung signaling the boys departure, he let out a sigh of relief because maybe now he could concentrate long enough to finish his paper. 

Concentrating wasn’t on the schedule apparently.

He blinked once and there was the boy again. He hadn’t left after all, instead making himself comfortable at a table Harry estimated was only about three and a half feet away. Can a heartbeat be heard from three and a half feet away? Harry really hoped not.

At this point he decided it would be best to stop staring, not for good of course, but at least for a few minutes so the boy wouldn’t get freaked out and run off.

He made it a grand total of two minutes and thirteen seconds, the numbers blinking obnoxiously on the timer he'd set on his phone. When he looked up the roles had been reversed, the boy staring him down like he was trying to decide what kind underwear he was wearing or how many times he brushed his teeth a day. Harry quickly glanced back down to his phone and pretended he was reading a very important text. It was a pathetic attempt really, considering he never got texts, much less important ones. While trying to at least make it look like he was doing something worth not looking up, he noticed it was 11:11. 

And for just a moment he almost thought about wishing he was normal.

A normal university student with normal friends (or any friends really, he wasn’t going to be picky) and a normal family and a normal life in general really.

But was there any point in wishing for something that couldn’t possibly come true?

Harry decided to make a wish for the boy instead.

His wishes probably always came true.

Because he is normal, and Harry knows he will find someone amazing. He deserves to fall in love and have someone tell him he's beautiful when the sun comes through the curtains in the morning and lights up his face. But also when it gets dark and things aren’t so easy. 

If someone told Harry he was beautiful he would probably pass out. Or throw up. One or the other.

Because he didn’t deserve to be told things like that. Those things were reserved for boys with pretty blue eyes that stood out even though they were three and a half feet away. 

At that point he abandoned all hope of finishing his paper and started to pack up his things, making sure not to let his eyes wander back to where they wanted to be.

Getting up out of the chair was easy now, walking out the door seemed to be the hard part.

Because he wanted to turn around and introduce himself or write his number on a slip of paper or act like he needed to borrow something so he'd have an excuse to speak to the boy whose eyes he could feel burning into his back.

But those are things normal people can do and as much as he'd like to be, Harry just isn’t normal.


	2. Louis makes sandwiches and Harry is also Harold

After working all weekend to finish his paper Harry accidentally slept in on Monday and missed his  eight A.M. english class.

When he finally woke up around noon, eyes still caked with sleep, and saw the football jersey and tennis shoes thrown at the foot of his bed he knew exactly why he hadn’t woken up to his alarm.

 Derek had gone to the game when he had specifically told him not to.

 See this had happened before and not just with Derek. They all did it to him, going off and keeping his body up late into the night, making him miss his classes or wake up looking like one of those zombies from that tv show he heard everybody talking about. He tried to stop them, sometimes begging, other times reasoning, but no matter how many times he said no it did no good.

 After he finally managed to get up and shower, washing away the distinct smell of sweat and _girls_ and sex (trying his hardest not to think too deeply about the last two), he put on a pair of dark sweatpants and one of his plain white t-shirts because there was no point in leaving his room now. The water had managed to bring some remnants of life back to him though, so rather than climb back into bed he pulled his laptop from his backpack and turned it on. Maybe his professor would at least give him partial credit for the paper if he emailed it to her. So he did just that, after which he got distracted and ended up watching YouTube videos for two hours. He was just finishing a fourteen minute one about the life cycle of a flea, which he had no idea how he'd ended up watching, when his stomach let out a loud rumble.

 And he really didn’t want to get up but nature was telling him he had to, even though he could live a solid three more weeks if he had some bottled water handy to at least keep him hydrated.

 There ended up being a pack of hotdogs that expired two months ago and some orange juice that wasn’t even orange anymore in his mini fridge, meaning he had two choices. Get terribly sick or go out to eat.

 He decided the smarter choice was to go out. He didn’t know just how much smarter of a choice it really was.

 After opting to just fuck it and wear the clothes he was already in, he threw on some slippers, grabbed his keys and his wallet and headed out in search of the nearest food source. He had only been walking for five minutes when he reached a little sandwich shop nestled quietly on the outskirts of the campus. The sign read _Luigi’s Custom Sandwiches_ and he happened to like sandwiches. Perfect.

 When he pulled open the door he could smell all the breads and cheeses and meats before he could see them. There didn’t appear to be anyone inside, even behind the counter, but the sign outside had said open which surely meant someone should be working.

 “Anyone here?”

 He called out as he cautiously stepped inside, the smell even stronger than before, except now he could see what it was coming from. There just so happened to be every kind of sandwich topping imaginable, separated into little containers along with just about every kind of meat Harry could think of. He was honestly surprised there wasn’t anyone eating there because it looked delicious. Now if only there was someone there to help him.

 “I'm coming!”

 A voice called out from somewhere in the shop. A voice that Harry could already tell belonged to someone that had to be beautiful.

 Of course it belonged to the boy from Friday night. That was just his luck.

 He was dry this time of course, hair swept perfectly across his forehead, white apron wrapped around his tiny frame, as he emerged from one of those doors that swing both ways. A pair of black framed glasses hung on the end of his nose and Harry had the strange urge to push them back up so they wouldn’t fall off and break. The boy hadn’t looked up yet, apparently watching his step so he wouldn’t trip and drop the pile of bread he was carrying. Harry definitely wasn’t worried that when he looked up he would recognize him. There was no way anyone would remember him.

 “You look familiar. Have I seen you around?”

 And well, that was unexpected, those blue eyes studying him now, trying to place where they knew him from. Shit. The one person to actually pay enough attention to know they’ve saw him before is someone so out of his league he wouldn’t even have a chance with him.

 “I don’t think so. I kind of keep to myself.”

 Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried to remember how to talk to real people.

 “No no. I've seen you before, I wouldn’t forget those curls.”

 The boy had turned around now, setting the bread into what Harry assumed was a machine to keep it warm.

 “I need to order a sandwich”

 Harry said casually, because that was really why he had came here in the first place.

 “Some things are more important than sandwiches, and one of those things—Oh I know! I know! You were at that cafe the other night, the one stuck in the chair that kept staring at me.”

 They were facing each other again, and Harry could tell the boy was proud he remembered, eyes lighting up with recognition and something else. Something Harry couldn’t quite place. His attempts at friendship had never worked out in the past but something in those eyes was screaming at him to give it one last shot.

 “I wasn’t stuck. And I definitely wasn’t staring.”

 The words came out almost playfully and Harry wondered if maybe this could work after all.

 “Oh you were staring. You wanna know how I know that?”

 This boy was clearly unaware that he was working and Harry seemed to have forgotten he was here eat.

“How?”

 What could he say? He was curious.

 “Well cause I was staring at you, but decided you were too cute to not have a boyfriend—or um girlfriend?”

 And Harry might not have been the most social person in the world but he knew what that question meant.

 “Neither actually. But if I had to pick I'd go with boyfriend.”

 The way the boy's smile grew by like five hundred percent proved himself right.

 “Silly me forgetting to introduce myself! I'm Louis.”

 And then Louis was extending a hand across the counter, a hand that Harry took in his and shook for probably five seconds longer than what was considered good etiquette.

 “Harry. And it's nice to meet you Louis.”

 The door behind them opened suddenly, a group of girls finding their way inside, oblivious to the moment they had destroyed.

 “So what can I get for you Harry?”

 Louis was pulling a pair of gloves on, which luckily gave Harry enough time to collect his thoughts and decide what he wanted.

 “Can I get turkey on wheat bread?”

 Well half of what he wanted.

 “Anything else on that?”

 Louis asked, looking up at him with a smirk.

 “Surprise me.”

 He really didn’t know what he was getting himself into with those two simple words, because Louis literally made him close his eyes until he was done. Then he was wrapping the sandwich up and swiping Harry's card, even throwing in a bottle of water and cookie with a wink, before sending him on his way.

 “Maybe I'll see you around?”

 Harry was almost out the door when Louis practically screamed to get his attention. The girls were looking back and forth between the two boys curiously, whispering things Harry couldn’t hear.

 “Definitely.”

 Which seemed to satisfy the boy who went back to taking the girls' orders, just a little more cheerfully than before, sneaking one last smile in before the door closed and Harry was gone.

 He walked home happier than he'd been in a very long time.

 It just so happened that Louis somehow managed to get his sandwich exactly right. Even down to the amount of mustard and number of cheese slices. That had to say something.

 *

 He went back to the sandwich shop for dinner and he knew he should've at least waited a couple days or tried to accidentally run into Louis somewhere else, but he just couldn’t help himself.

 Once again the place was empty and he realized Louis might not even still be there. His shift could've ended hours ago which would’ve rendered this whole trip pointless.

 “Was the sandwich really that good? Back for seconds already?”

 Louis popped up out of nowhere, surprising Harry, who may or may not have made a noise that was not human.

 “You could say that I guess.”

 Harry occasionally amazed himself. This was one of those times.

 Louis seemed to get it because he was looking at Harry like his brain was trying to formulate something witty to say back.

 “Okay I give up. I cant beat that. I was going to tell you to make me a sandwich but technically since I work here, and I make the sandwiches that didn’t seem like the best route to go.”

 Both boys laughed simultaneously at Louis' attempt at being funny, which only caused them to laugh more.

 “I didn’t really come back for a sandwich anyway.”

 Harry blurted out, faint traces of pink finding its way to his cheeks.

 “Oh.”

 Now they were both blushing.

 “I was kind of actually wondering—well I don’t know when you get off but would you like to get something to eat? With me?”

 Talking to people usually wasn’t this easy. Most of the time there was so many voices it was hard for  him to hear himself think, much less formulate sentences.

 Thus far they had been strangely silent around Louis. That probably had to say something too.

 “I can close up now if you don’t mind waiting around.”

 He didn’t even get a chance to answer because Louis was bustling around, putting things away and locking cabinets and wiping things off. Harry sat down in one of the booths to wait, well aware that he was smiling like an idiot the entire time.

 After everything was shut down they walked to the nearest restaurant chatting about what their majors were, developmental psychology for Harry and photography for Louis, the latest episode of The X-Factor, and what kind of music they liked.

 Harry kept waiting for it to end because everything good always ended, for him at least, but it only got better.

 “After you.”

 Louis bowed and everything, holding the door open, and letting Harry go through first. They were just at a cheap burger place but it was the first actual date Harry had been on and he was going to make it one to remember. Even if it was his last.

 “Thanks.”

 Harry replied sheepishly, peeking back over his shoulder to catch a glance of the boy as their waitress led them to their table. After they got settled and ordered their food Louis tried to start up a first date conversation.

 “So Harry tell me about yourself. Where did you grow up?”

 And it was a simple enough question. A question most people would answer with a story about their hometown and family and how many brothers and sisters they had. But to Harry it was a topic he tended to avoid. In fact, he had avoided it for so long that he could barely remember anything about his life from the age of six to fourteen.

 Everything that happened next was both all Louis' fault but not his fault at all, because he didn’t know. He didnt know those what those kinds of questions caused.

 Even if he did he probably wouldn’t have noticed the way Harry's thumb twitched three times or how his eyes glazed over for just a split second or the way his posture became just a little straighter.

 “Louis right? Yes Louis. I grew up in a little town with my mother and father and one sister. Glorious childhood if I don’t say so myself. We had one of those big pools in the backyard and a trampoline and a little cat named Dusty. I lived the dream.”

 Louis did notice the complete attitude change thoug, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

 “You okay Harry?”

 He asked, reaching a hand across the table and setting it lightly on top of Harry's and giving a reassuring squeeze.

 “I'd prefer if you call me Harold right now. Harry is—well he is occupied at the moment.”

 At that he pulled his hand back, but he stayed where he was seated.

 “What do you mean he is occupied?”

 Louis' curiosity was getting the best of him.

 “Well he doesn’t care to talk about his childhood, bit of a sore subject.”

 Harry (or maybe Harold would be more appropriate) folded his hands together on the table and gave a smile that looked like he was saying sorry. For what Louis wasn’t sure.

 “I thought you said you had a glorious childhood? I'm confused.”

 Not confused enough to give up though.

 “I did have a glorious childhood. Harry on the other hand did not.”

 Oh. _Oh._ Sure Louis had seen things like this on tv but he never thought he'd actually meet someone with multiple personalities. A couple years ago he even did a project for school about Dissociative Identity Disorder, which he found fascinating, and ended up researching far after he turned in his work.

 “And you said you’re Harold?”

 "Yes. I can let Harry come back now if you would like. I'd just suggest staying away from the whole childhood subject.”

 Harold said politely, unfolding and refolding his napkin around his silverware.

 “Yeah I'd like that.”

 “It was nice meeting you Louis.”

 He nodded, closed his eyes, opened them and there was Harry. He blinked a couple of times, looking around like he forgot where he was, until his eyes landed on Louis.

 “Oh shit oh shit oh shit. No that did not just happen. Which one was it?”

His eyes were still on Louis', the fear clearly evident.

 “He said his name was Harold.”

 A look of relief washed across Harry and he sunk back into his chair, closing his eyes.

 “Thank god it was him. I'm so sorry—I'm just gonna go now.”

 He jumped up but before he could even take a step there was a hand wrapped around his wrist.

 “But we haven’t even ate yet.”

 Louis gave him his best smile, the one where the corners of his eyes scrunched up because he was truly happy, and even tilted his head to the side slightly for good measure.

 “You still want to talk to me?”

 He was so so confused. Everyone that had ever found out had ran the first chance they got, excuse after excuse after excuse. So when this beautiful boy that shouldn’t have even been talking to him in the first place wanted him to stay, he wasn’t sure what to do.

 “Why wouldn’t I? Come on Harry sit back down.”

 He ended up sitting back down, because Louis told him too, and that was all he needed. Their waitress showed up with their food a couple seconds later, staring at Harry like she wanted to take him to the back for alone time, and Louis almost told her a picture would last longer. Almost.

 “Did you see the way she was looking at you? I could've sworn she was going to devour you right in front of me.”

 Harry hadn’t noticed, mainly because he couldn’t take his eyes off Louis, Louis who was now doubled over on the table laughing hysterically.

 “She was not.”

 Louis' good mood was contagious, easing Harry's nerves from Harold's appearance a little more each passing second.

 “She's still looking. Behind you.”

 But when he went to turn around Louis interrupted him.

 “Not yet. You’ll look too obvious. Okay—now. But try to be sneaky.”

 He tried to be sneaky and failed, the girl noticing him instantly and giving a shy wave in his direction.

  _Sunday night after the game. The waitress. Sarah? Cara? She was wearing a little white dress and no shoes, sitting on the hood of her car. That shy wave, he'd seen that before. No. That was Derek. But he can see her mouth moving, the words were far off, muffled. She's pulling Derek into her backseat, doing things to his body he would never agree to if he was himself. But there's nothing he can do about it._

 “Harry?”

 His head snapped around and Louis was still there (surprisingly), and he was still Harry.

 “Sorry, just thought I saw someone.”

 He must not have been a good liar.

 “You know you don’t have to lie to me. I know we've only known each other like what, a couple hours? But this whole thing you’ve got going on isn’t going to scare me away if that's what you’re worried about.   I'm not really like—everybody else.”

 It turned out that Louis was telling the truth.

 Because he didn’t make any excuses or try to ditch Harry or cut their date short. They finished eating, Louis continuing to tease him about the waitress, who almost tripped after she gave them the bill because she was paying too much attention to Harry and not enough to where she was walking. Louis paid after a lot of bribing and then walked Harry home, where they were currently standing outside of his door.

 “I had fun tonight.”

 Harry said, stuck between wanting to invite Louis inside and knowing he probably shouldn’t.

 “Me too. More fun than I've had in awhile.”

 And all Harry could think was that he must live a pretty boring life if this was the most fun he'd had in awhile. But maybe that meant there was hope after all.

 “Really? Like enough fun to do it again sometime?”

 Louis smiled that smile again, inching closer and closer until he was just millimeters from the boy, and pulled him into a hug. Even though he was shorter he got on his tiptoes and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, so he could whisper in his ear.

 “I think I'd like that.”

 And Harry never really had people this close to him, breathing hot breath onto the shell of his ear, sending chills throughout his body. His arms hung limply at his sides for a few moments until he realized he should probably reciprocate the hug. So he brought them up around Louis' dainty waist, resting one hand on the small of the boy's back.

 When they broke apart they exchanged phone numbers and said their goodbyes.

 Harry absolutely did not do a little spin when he got into his room. And he most definitely didn’t add a heart to the end of Louis' name in his phone contacts. Because that would be silly.

 He did however lay in bed for quite some time that night waiting for a text that he probably would never receive.

 Until he did, his phone buzzing on the table next to him, lighting up the darkness with its bright glow.

  _From: Louis <3_

_I just wanted to say goodnight and that I'm expecting a text from you tomorrow. Don't let me down :)_

 He read it once, then twice, then a third time just to be sure he wasn't seeing things.

 After he concluded his eyes were in working order he started to type out a reply, hoping more than anything that they wouldn’t screw this, whatever it was, up for him.

  _To: Louis <3_

_Goodnight. And never xx_

 Little did he know he made a promise in that moment, a promise that in the end he would never break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd really love to hear opinions on this. You guys are the greatest!!:)


	3. A kiss can change a lot

_To: Louis <3  
I think I promised you a text...so here it is :) _

Harry had doubled checked the text from Louis again (because he very well could've been dreaming) before replying the next morning while he was sitting in class.

He wasn’t expecting any reply, much less one so quickly, his phone buzzing before he even got the chance to put it in his pocket.

_From: Louis <3  
And to think I was worried you weren't going to reply ;) _

Louis was worried _he_ wasn't going to reply. Oh the irony.

_To: Louis <3  
You were worried? I thought I had imagined the entire thing so if anyone deserved to be worried it was me haha _

A minute went past and then two and once again he was convinced he had done something to ruin everything.

But a few seconds later proved him wrong.

_From: Louis <3  
You're too cute to worry. What would you say if I asked to see you again?_

And he had never changed in class before but I guess there was a first for everything.

He tucked a few stray curls behind his ear and smoothed out the wrinkles on his non-existant dress, re-reading the text before typing out a response.

_To: Louis <3  
Please stop texting Harry. I don’t like you. _

_From: Louis <3  
Harold?_

_To: Louis <3  
No. Harold likes you unfortunately._

Nellie on the other hand did not like him. She may have only been ten but she was old enough to know that all boys do is hurt you. They squeeze your wrists too hard and yell at you when you don't say what they want and pin you to the bed while they—

_From: Louis <3  
Who are you then?_

She decided he didn't deserve to know her name and deleted every text after the last one Harry had sent before letting him come back.

He spent the next three hours thinking Louis forgot about him, seemingly disappearing from the face of the earth. Except that was just a little bit dramatic, but it sure felt like it. He was on the way to his next class when his phoned buzzed and he almost ran into four people while he was trying to dig it out.

_From: Louis <3  
Harry?_

_To: Louis <3  
Yes?_

_From: Louis <3  
Oh good you’re back :) _

That's when it hit him, why hadn’t he seen it sooner? One of them must've been texting Louis and thought they were sneaky, covering their tracks so he wouldn’t find out.

_To: Louis <3  
Which one was it this time?_

But the only response he got was someone grabbing him from behind, fingers resting on his stomach, chin just barely hitting his shoulder.

“Guess whooo?”

Whoever it was cooed into his ear. And that voice was one he could never forget.

“Hi Louis.”

Harry pulled free and spun around to face the boy, smile outshining the sun.

“Hi there yourself. I was just about to text you back but happened to see you walking and thought you'd like this more.”

He did like this more. Much more.

“I like this more.”

“Of course you do. Who wouldn’t like being surprised by this?”

Louis gestured to his face and Harry nodded, even though nodding really didn’t answer the boy's question, but hey he was pretty sure it was rhetorical anyway.

“So um you were going to tell me which one it was?”

Harry really didn’t want to interrupt the flirting (could you call it flirting?) going on at the moment but he had to know, because these things were important.

“Oh yeah—sorry. She said her name was Nellie and that she didn’t like me.”

Well it could've been worse. 

“She's kind of scared of guys. Don’t take it personally.”

Harry informed the boy, surprising himself again with how easy this all was.

“When she didn’t text back I just figured I'd give it a little bit of time, wait for you to come back, before I sent anything else.”

Who even was this boy with his perfect face and perfect body and perfect thoughts. No one else would think to give Harry time to come back before texting, no one would respect his personalities like that. He found himself lost in thought, his own thoughts and only his own, and they were all saying the same thing.

“Speaking of me being back, do you think you'd want to do something tonight? I mean if you don't already have plans.”

Derek would’ve been angry. Harold would’ve been proud. Nellie would’ve been upset. And the others, well, we'll get to them eventually.

Louis' face lit up like he just got a puppy for Christmas, sweeping his fringe to the side and nodding a little too eagerly 

“Yeah—yeah of course. What'd you have in mind?”

He asked Harry, who was now smiling himself while he picked at the strap of his back pack nervously.

“Um well what about a movie? At my place? I mean—if that's okay with you.”

He didn’t want another repeat of their previous date and maybe being in his own element would prevent anything from triggering him. Because despite the fact that Louis seemed okay with his erm—condition, he didn’t want to take any chances. Everyone has a point when everything becomes too much for them to handle. Harold coming out over dinner for a few minutes wasn’t a big deal because he let Harry come back. And Nellie texting the boy really didn’t seem to have any adverse effects. But if they kept coming out, and sticking around for longer periods of time (because there was that one time last year when he woke up at midnight to a trashed dorm room and claw marks littering the door and couldn’t remember anything that happened over the last twenty four hours), that would be Louis' breaking point. No one in their right mind would want to be in a relationship with someone who wasn’t always themselves. Except for maybe Louis, but we'll get to that eventually too.

“Sounds perfect! Where do you live and what time?”

Louis took out a pen and Harry reached for it cautiously, using his other hand to steady Louis' so he could write properly. That warm palm on his nearly made him forget what he was supposed to be doing, but he managed to pull himself together and scrawl his address messily across the tanned skin of the back of Louis' hand.

“Seven?”

Harry asked, still holding Louis' hand even though he had finished writing.

“I'll be there.”

And then Louis was using their connected hands as an excuse to pull Harry closer, bringing his free arm around the boy's waist and tugging their bodies into a tight hug. Everything went all fuzzy around the edges and the smell of vanilla and fresh laundry surrounded him, flickers of warmth budding on every inch of skin and making him feel like he was glowing. If he could've saw his face he would’ve been proved correct.

They stayed like that for quite some time, or at least it felt that way, even though Harry only managed to count to fifteen in his head before Louis pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and said he had to get to class.

“I'll see you at seven!”

Louis called, turning around to wave at the boy still rooted to where he stood.

*

Harry was an absolute wreck and that was putting it gently. Currently he was vacuuming naked for the fourth time because he had already showered but couldn’t decide what to wear. But when he looked at his phone and realized he only had an hour until Louis' arrival he figured he should probably put some form of clothes on.

He dug through his closet for awhile, scattering things across the floor, until he settled on a plain black t-shirt and a dark pair of skinny jeans. Well that wasn’t so hard. But he still had fifty six minutes until the boy got there and what was someone supposed to do with that kind of time on their hands. He paced around for quite some time, checked his hair in the bathroom mirror every five minutes on the dot, and brushed his teeth just in case. See he wasn’t expecting Louis to kiss him because that would be crazy, but he wanted Louis to kiss him, which was also crazy.

There was a knock on the door at ten to seven while Harry was in the bathroom testing out pushing his curly fringe to the opposite side, which as a side note wasn’t such a good idea.

“I'm coming!”

He called, flipping it messily back into place and practically sprinting to the door.

See in all honesty he hadn’t really been expecting the boy to show up, because why would he? Everything he'd been putting himself through for the last couple of hours was a precaution really, just in case. The last thing he was expecting to see when he opened that door was a very adorable boy with those glasses and that beanie and a fucking bouquet of flowers clasped in his hands.

“Hey.”

Louis said shyly and Harry wanted to kill himself.

“Hi.”

Was what he managed to choke out.

“These are for you. I hope you don’t think it's like—too cheesy, I wasn’t really sure what you liked.”

The boy said, passing Harry the flowers and making his way inside.

Harry took them, all blues and pinks and yellows, and he wanted to tell Louis they were the best present he'd ever gotten. Because they really were. 

“They’re perfect. I love them.”

Was what he ended up saying, the words came out softly, bouncing through the air and into Louis' ears like a quiet song.

Meanwhile Harry brought the flowers up to his nose and inhaled the scent of everything he'd never got the chance to smell before. He stood there for a few seconds, just taking it all in, before he was pulled back to reality. There was a boy in his living room and he had to entertain him for the next couple of hours. Shit.

It was all kinds of awkward at first, mumbled sentences and careful glances, before they managed to pick a movie and sit down on opposite ends of the couch. They didn’t talk after that, trying to focus on what was playing on screen but really only thinking about each other

The movie was about halfway through when Louis broke the silence and things took a much needed turn.

“Harry?”

He asked quietly, turning so he was facing the boy.

“Yeah?”

Harry replied, already knowing this was going to go one of two ways.

“Do you care if—like if I sit a little closer? I mean I understand if you say no—“

He was cut off by Harry scooting across the couch until their arms were brushing up against each other and he could smell the boy's fruity shampoo.

“Better?”

Harry asked, an unknown surge of braveness washing over him.

“Much.”

A few minutes later Louis snaked his hand over to where Harry's lay on his own thigh and tangled their fingers together. There was no denying the heat that made it's way into his hand and up his arm and ended up giving him a headache. And usually headaches only meant one thing, Hazza was coming, but this time only his voice just barely managed to break the surface.

_Be careful Harry, he's going to hurt us. He always hurts us._

This time though Harry chose to ignore that voice and found himself cuddling into Louis' side, head now resting on his shoulder. Everything around him was fading away into a pool of swirling colors and blurred sounds and emptiness, leaving him with only the heat of the boy next to him and the steady heartbeat beneath both of their skin mixing together as one. He wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes but he ended up feeling the soft lips on his own before seeing them. Then everything came rushing in all at once, the hand curved around the back of his neck while the other was still wrapped around his own, the body so close to him, the soft drag of a tongue along his bottom lip. 

And that one kiss did a whole lot more than anyone could've planned, because everything had been against him from the beginning even though he didn’t know it. Touching had always been a bad thing, full of pain and bruises and words that made him sick. He couldn’t remember any of it but they did, each taking their own portion to store away until he could handle it all by himself one day, one day that might've never came had not been for that kiss.

See he'd never been kissed before, not even once, that being one of the only things the man didn’t do to him. So when Louis kissed him it didn’t bring back any memories that needed to be kept from him, only new memories that might be able to help him move on.

It only took him a few seconds for him to catch up, following the boy's lead and moving his mouth slowly against Louis'. It was so so gentle, just lips on lips and slight pressure and Louis' tongue tracing his lower lip occasionally. Then the boy was letting go of his hand and wrapping his arm around Harry's back, pulling him impossibly closer to deepen the kiss. 

Harry was pretty sure he saw fireworks on his closed eyelids when Louis' tongue parted his lips and slipped into his mouth. His own tongue was hot and heavy, and it took everything he had to finally move it, tangling it with Louis' and making his heart stop. 

When Louis finally pulled back they were both panting slightly, foreheads pressed against each other and eyes locked.

“I think I really like you. Like _like_ you like I've never liked anyone before.”

Louis breathed out.

He wasn’t even sure why but the urge to be with Harry was so overwhelming he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Except maybe make sure he could be around the boy whenever he wanted.

Harry was still staring into those blue eyes, trying to remember how to talk, when Louis decided he didn’t need a response.

“Would you want to be my boyfriend? I know we barely know each other but like—shit I want to know you. All of you.”

There was a unanimous decision in Harry's head and even Nellie and Derek ended up agreeing which in itself said something, because they would never allow this.

“All of me?”

Harry asked, just to double check. Because he was kind of a package deal.

“Every last bit.”

Was Louis' answer and that was all it took.

“Okay.”

Harry said, pulling his head back and falling down so he was sprawled across the couch.

He couldn’t believe he just agreed to be Louis' boyfriend. Louis, who was so out of his league he thought he'd be lucky if the boy even remembered his name. Louis, who knew about the others and still said he wanted to know all of him. When did life start to turn in his favor?

Before he knew what had happened Louis had crawled on top of him and was peppering little kisses all across his face. He started giggling, because it tickled of course (especially the ones on his eyelids), and tried to roll off the couch to escape until he realized he was bracketed in by the boy's arms.

_Those thick arms on either side of him, skin worn and aged, holding him down._

But these arms were smooth and tanned, and they belonged to a boy that was looking down like he was looking at the stars.

“You okay?”

Louis asked when he noticed Harry's slight hesitation

“Well you're here aren’t you?”

And yeah he knew he was being a little shit but he felt on top of the world even though he was underneath what would soon become his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really interested to know what you guys think so far!!:)


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